Making Repairs
by Razzmatazzy
Summary: Cloti Oneshot, Post AC. Cloud is at home, just doing his thing at the end of the day, when Tifa walks in and asks the big question: Do you love me? Choose your next words carefully, Spiky...


_(Author's Note: Every CloudxTifa writer has at least one of these one-shots: How do Cloud and Tifa admit they love each other? This was a random idea that came to me one day and I wrote it for fun. I think it turned out rather well so I decided to share it with all you fine folks! The title hints at the underlying theme for this piece. Please feel free to comment and enjoy!)  
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**Making Repairs**

Cloud was in his room, seated at the workbench by the window, repairing the complex sheathe for his swords. It was handmade and had suffered a rather nasty gash during his travels. Monsters still roamed around and some thought a moving target on a bike would make a good meal, only to find the truth of the situation moments later. This particular twisted wolf had been stalking him for some time and leapt from a rocky precipice, intending to land on his back. He'd narrowly avoided it but the sheathe had not been so lucky. He must've cursed that wolf a thousand times over as he spent the next two hours picking up his swords that had been scattered over three miles.

It had taken him hours to remove the damaged strips of leather and was currently measuring and cutting new ones to replace them. The sun had started to set and the kids were out with "Uncle Cid," who never tired of showing off his new airship to anyone that could sit through his long-winded lectures. Cid had promised to keep the swearing down to a minimum when Tifa twisted his arm about it, but Cloud doubted he'd remember that promise for very long. Kids could be a handful.

He was happily working at the sheathe, tinkering away patiently when he heard the door to his room squeak open. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Tifa smile at him. "Hey Tifa." He turned back to the task at hand. One last strip to cut and then it'd be all ready for securing and good to see action.

"Cloud, I wanted to talk about something."

"No problem." It'd been only a couple of weeks since the Remnants had risen. Since then he'd come back home once and for all, finally unburdened with the guilt that had driven him from any solace for almost two years. At long last he was allowing himself to slide back into the comfort of friendship and savoring the fullness that the surrogate family added to his life. Gone was the emptiness, the hollow meaninglessness that had dominated his life the year before. No longer was he afraid of losing what he held so dear. Now he had a lot of time to make up for. He was darn lucky Tifa even let him back, with the way he'd acted. He owed her a lot, and if she wanted to talk, he'd talk. It wasn't really his strong suit, talking, and she knew that. But for her, he'd do his best.

It was time to stop living in the shadows. He'd been lingering too long between the waking from the awful dream he'd made for himself two years ago and acting to make a new life for himself. More importantly, it was time for him to start _living_ it.

Besides, he'd made a promise to a friend.

"What are you thinking?" Tifa's gentle voice jolted him from his thoughts. Only now did he realize he'd been staring at the broken sheathe, silently brooding as he rolled the strip of leather between his fingers. Tifa had crossed the room and was now half-leaning, half-sitting on the table while facing him, palms down on the tabletop. It'd be so easy to put an arm around her bare waist and draw her onto his lap...

He stopped that idea abruptly. Not the right time for that, Strife, he reminded himself sternly. Too soon. "Nothing." He gave her a quiet smile. "Just remembering. What's up?"

She did not return his smile. Was it just him, or did she seem a little nervous? That wasn't like Tifa. He stood up, startling her, as a sudden, horrible thought occurred to him. "Nothing's wrong? You're not hurt?"

"N-no, I'm fine." She raised a hand to lay it comfortingly on his shoulder but stopped and let it drop to her own shoulder instead, idly fiddling with a lock of hair. Again, she would not look at him. "I just... wanted to ask you something."

"I'm listening." To put her mind at ease - maybe she felt nervous with him staring at her - he started to work on the sheath again. Everything was already measured out, he just needed to make some holes to bolt the straps together. For that, he needed a nail.

Nail... nail... where did he put that box of them? Ah, there they are. He grabbed the box and started to draw out a single nail.

"Cloud, do you love me?"

Nails sprayed everywhere as his hands jerked in surprise at the question. He felt himself blushing fiercely and immediately bent to the task of picking up nails off the floor. Why did she drop that question on him now? Confusion went rampant in his spiky little head.

Tifa said nothing as he meticulously picked up nails off the floor. Cloud lingered down there, searching for nails in the darkness under the table to hide his blushing face. To say that this was unexpected is like saying that the ocean has some water in it. How could she doubt? Did she really not know?

Having gathered all the nails on the floor, he reluctantly stood and started meekly gathering up the ones on the tabletop. He couldn't look at Tifa.

"Cloud?" Her voice trembled and he frantically racked his brain for something to say. Why did everyone thrust these situations on him? Cloud, the world is ending! Cloud, Midgar is in danger! Cloud, Meteor is about to fall!

Cloud, do you love me?

He wasn't good at this kind of thing! He needed time to prepare, think about what he was going to say, preferably write it down and commit it to memory weeks beforehand. When it came to dangerous situations, he could think on his feet. Commanding in battle was something he'd had to do since he was sixteen - even then, commanders said he had a natural talent for keeping focus in battle, in prioritizing effectively and swiftly giving orders. Didn't freeze up in battle, didn't hesitate in giving orders - a born leader in battle, that was him. Ironic, considering that now, his guts shriveled up in fear at the mere thought of answering Tifa's question.

"Cloud? Please say something?" She sounded on the edge of tears now and he ducked his head, cringing.

When it came to his feelings, to personal stuff like this, he just froze up. It had entirely kept him from admitting his feelings to Tifa back then, when they were kids, and it was doing the same thing now. He'd always heard that shyness was something that people grew out of but that was, in his humble option, absolute bullshit. It infuriated him that though his feelings for her were nearly choking him, he just couldn't... spit... it... out!

Tifa stood and took a step away, out of his peripheral vision. For a long time she stood there silently, half-way between leaving and staying, then he heard her turn around. He just continued to fumble with the nails, not knowing what else to do.

Come on, Cloud, think! You can think of something to say! You're what, 23? And you've never admitted your feelings for the girl you've always liked? Scratch that, always _loved?_ Man up, dammit! Say something!

Tifa put a hand on his shoulder. Her hand shook as much as her voice when she finally spoke. "Cloud, I know. It's hard for you to say what you feel. It's... one of those things I love about you. But I don't know anymore. I never used to question what it was between... between us but I just don't know now. I need to have something solid to believe in. If you can just... give me a sign or something. Anything."

She had to stop, regain control of her voice. "Please."

DO IT, STRIFE, he mentally shouted at himself. He kept fiddling with the nail in his fingers.

Put the stupid nail down.

He did, meekly obeying his own mental commands.

Turn around.

He turned around, but looked down, not meeting Tifa's anxious gaze.

Look her in the eye like a man, dammit.

He couldn't. Oh god, no, he couldn't do it. The shyness came up over him again, the inexorable clamming up that he'd never been able to stop no matter how much he wanted to. Couldn't they just... do this later? Maybe he could tell her in a different way? Like leaving Post-It notes! Yeah! He could leave her notes about how he felt on the desk where she'd be sure to find them. Maybe he'd skip town for a day or two, just to avoid any embarrassment...

It was stupid and pathetic and he knew it. But god, he just couldn't look her in the eye and tell her he loved her... emotions were never his strong suit. He'd always spent so much time hiding them! It was easier to bury feelings, to drown the pain and disappointment in pools of silence and stoic distance. The only problem was, he forgot to keep all the good emotions as well, and now burying his feelings had become second-nature. How could he suddenly throw off a habit that a lifetime of experience had ingrained in him?

Suddenly, that part of his brain that had been ordering him around posed a very good question. It sternly reminded him that he had a promise to keep.

What Would Zack Do?

With that thought to steel his nerves, Cloud looked Tifa in the eye. And that alone nearly undid him. She was looking at him with those large, dark eyes he'd always thought were so beautiful. He knew that many people considered the more exotic eye colors to be attractive but the way those deep brown eyes just drank in his entire being always stole his breath away.

That was it! Say something about her eyes, Strife. That'll be the sign she wants. Perfect!

He opened his mouth to tell her how here eyes were the most beautiful thing in the world, how the smallest glance from her would leave him distracted and his skin burning, how he always lost himself in that warm, dark regard when she held his gaze captive with her own.

This romantic flood of revelation was cut off by sudden inspiration, however.

This moment, said a little voice in the back of his head, is a perfect opportunity to apologize.

Apologize?

Yes. Apologize for all the crap you've put this woman through. Show her you're sorry. Say that you regret every bad thing you've made her suffer for your sorry hide. Once you show her that you hate all the trials you've put her through, _then_ you say that you want to spend the rest of your life making it up to her. Because you love her and you've always loved her. Besides, she _deserves_ an apology.

It was an incredibly good idea and Cloud felt proud for having thought of it. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath to steady himself.

Gently, tenderly, he took her hands in his and looked into her eyes, careful not to lose himself in their absorbing depths. For the first time in his life, he let the shame and guilt he felt for putting her through so many troubles show through his unchanging expression that had been cultivated by hard times, by a hard life. He let it all show in his eyes, softening the iron mask to reveal his true feelings, to show the depth of how much he cared.

"Tifa," he began softly, "I am so sorry-"

Tifa's carefully composed expression shattered as she burst into tears. Terrible, soul-shuddering sobs wracked her body as she cried like her heart had been torn out.

Panic blazed through him. Oh shit, oh damn, oh no no no no! Curse that stupid little voice in his head! She thought he was refusing her gently, kindly. She thought he didn't love her!

The thought made his blood run cold.

Desperate to stop the flood of tears, he reached out and anxiously tried to calm her down by patting her hair and shoulders as she sobbed. "Oh no no no Tifa, please don't cry please, please... just stop crying?"

She could only shake her head as tears poured down her face. Guilt-stricken, he folded his arms around her and she buried her face into his shoulder, crying her eyes out as he stroked her hair and murmured soothing words in her ear. He winced as she gripped his shirt with one hand and cried like her heart was breaking in two.

Oh, how did he manage do screw up this bad? Here he was trying to tell a girl he loved her and he ended up making her cry instead! Oh you're a real charmer, Strife, he thought bitterly. Making women cry. A real hero you are!

Gently, he forced her chin up until she looked at him. "Tifa, please stop crying? Please?" She just kept it up and hung her head miserably. It began to scare him - what if she couldn't stop? Oh crap! What would he do then? He hated it when women cried, it made him feel sick and miserable and like an indecent pile of shit, especially since it was his fault. He had to do something to make her stop crying, quickly!

"Would you stop crying if I told you I loved you?"

The crying kept going for a few seconds then tapered off. She quickly dried her eyes on the back of her hands and glared up a him, lips pressed together firmly, eyes still brimming. She looked adorable, but he dare not say that now. He tried smiling at her encouragingly. "Please don't cry?"

"You what?" she said in a slightly stuffy voice.

"I love you." A slight wave of euphoria swept over him when he said those words and he smiled at her again. Hey, that wasn't so bad, now was it? He felt incredibly light-headed, as if he'd just taken a hard shot from one of those bottles Tifa kept on the high shelves behind the bar. It felt incredibly good to get that off his chest - he hadn't realized how tense it had made him until now.

A tenuous smile flickered on Tifa's lips, as if she couldn't quite believe what she was hearing. He whispered it to her again, a small smile touching his lips. "I love you, Tifa."

It was worth saying it again and all the embarrassment that came with it, just to see the way it lit her eyes up. He cupped her face with one hand and wiped away a stray tear. Her eyes were clear and bright now and he could feel himself being lost in those dark, warm depths. He let himself be lost, drank in her eyes and thought how beautiful they were. He thought how lucky he was to know her, that she still loved him when he didn't deserve it, after all he put her through.

Absently, he brushed his thumb over her lips and they parted as she gasped at this caress, the first of its kind she'd ever received from him. The first of many, he knew. God, she had nice lips. He wondered what they would feel like. He'd kissed her, once, beneath the Highwind two years ago, but it had been so sudden and such a surprise for them both it had barely lasted a second; hardly enough time to register it, much less savor it.

It's about time, he thought, I fix that.

Cloud kissed her. And this time he savored it.

Now this, he was good at. Action, doing, moving without thinking about the consequences. His actions were so much more natural, more comfortable than words, and he preferred showing to telling, especially when it came to tenuous things like emotions. Because of that reason many people thought he was cold and anti-social, when it simply wasn't true.

Except Tifa, that is. She knew him too well. Tifa...

She tasted like honey. He moved his lips against hers in a slow, gentle way that coaxed a small sound from her. Feeling a little dangerous, he ran his tongue along her bottom lip, savoring her intoxicating taste. She'd gotten over her initial timidness now and was pressing her lips against his needily, fervently. Holy crap, he should've done this sooner. It was amazing; he couldn't get enough of her and, to judge by the way she was kissing back, she couldn't get enough of him.

He couldn't really find the strength to pull away from her and, quite frankly, didn't want to. Holding her in his arms, he leaned back against the table, half-sitting on it the way she had earlier. Tifa slipped her arms around him and leaned into him, her lips playing tantalizingly with his. Cloud finally let himself relax, to truly enjoy this moment he'd been waiting so, very, very long for.

For the first time since he discovered his Geostigma, he felt like he'd finally come home.

They stayed like that for several minutes and would probably have gone longer had Denzel not opened the door at that moment.

The instant they heard the doorknob squeaking open, they jumped apart. With the reflexes and speed forged and honed from the intensity of combat, they instantly sprang into new positions. By the time the door was open just a couple of inches, they had created a deceiving new scenario.

"And I'll use this nail, here," Cloud selected a nail from the box. "To make a hole." Placing the nail against the leather strap, he tapped it with a small hammer and it slid in easily. "Like so."

"Mmmhmm, yes, I see," Tifa murmured, appearing totally absorbed in observing this unique and fascinating process.

"Tifa, we're home!" Denzel announced.

The two adults looked over to him, as if just now realizing he'd entered. Tifa smiled at him. "Hi Denzel. Have fun?"

His face brightened. "Yeah! It was so cool, Cid let us see the engine and I got to steer it and everything!"

Tifa knew a long-winded adventure when she heard one. "Okay, you can tell me all about later when I'm done helping Cloud with this, okay? Why don't you go downstairs and get Cid something to drink."

"Okay!" He vanished from the doorway.

"No alcohol!" Tifa called.

Another, fainter, "Okay!" answered her from downstairs.

Once they were sure he had gone, they both sighed and laughed nervously. Cloud dropped the tools and put his palms on the table, hanging his head and sighing to let off some of the pressure. Tifa grinned and wrapped her arms around his left one and rested her forehead against his arm, giggling. Cloud shifted so she fell into his embrace and she tucked her head into his shoulder, her arms twining around his waist. Cloud rested his cheek on her soft hair and closed his eyes, greedily breathing in her sweet scent. They stayed like that for a minute or two, simply enjoying each others company, trying to memorize this moment forever.

It was a moment they both knew couldn't last, and with great reluctance Tifa pushed away. "I love you, Cloud," she said softly.

"I know." He kissed her forehead and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

His unromantic response only made her grin. Flashing him a coy look over her shoulder that made his heart do an odd little jig, Tifa walked out the door and downstairs. A second later, he heard her jubilantly greeting Cid.

Cloud turned back to the sheathe and suddenly didn't have the strength to finish it. He collapsed into the chair and stared at the golden sunlight on the window ledge. He sat there for a long time before going downstairs to join the others, just grinning for no reason at all.


End file.
